


To Tell the Truth

by stainedglasstrenchcoat (sushiroll13)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushiroll13/pseuds/stainedglasstrenchcoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot. Concurrent with 6x10: Caged Heat. Dean goes to sleep with the weight of the world on his mind, and someone joins him in his dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Tell the Truth

"I learned that from the pizza man," Castiel explained.

 

The boys looked on in confusion. Their friend—this so-called Angel of the Lord—had, after all, just passionately kissed a demon.

 

And not just any demon. Meg. After all the trouble she had put Dean and Sam through, they felt a certain indignation.

 

 _"Yeah, indignation,"_ Dean thought, but there was more to it than he would admit, even to himself.

 

Sharp twinges of jealousy pained him as they left Meg to fight the hellhounds. The thought crossed Dean's mind that it wouldn't be so bad if the demon bitch died in the process.

 

* * *

 

Another job done, another bad mattress in another quirky motel room.

 

Dean closed his eyes at last, exhausted from the fight with Crowley. His mind drifted to all that he had lost in his life.

 

Mom.

 

Dad.

 

Sammy, though he always seemed to bounce back.

 

He was losing Lisa and Ben.

 

_"Why did I ever set foot on that doorstep? Why did I drag them into this mess?"_

And the painful truth that came out of Lisa's mouth, whether or not she meant to tell him, was still true.

 

 _"Nobody really wants to hear the truth,"_ Dean thought as he drifted to sleep, thinking of one more person he kept losing.

 

* * *

 

"Hello, Dean."

 

Dean looked up from his cards. Tonight's dream appeared to be a poker game at the Roadhouse with Ash, Jo, and Ellen.

 

"You dream about such benign things," Castiel observed.

 

"Well, when every day is Halloween, dreaming about mediocrity is a relief."

 

Dean excused himself from the next round of cards and beckoned at Castiel to follow him to the bar.

 

"How do you keep creeping into my dreams, Cas? And for that matter, why?"

 

Dean poured himself a drink and offered a glass to the angel, who declined.

 

"I'd prefer to be sober for this particular message," said Castiel, though he looked at the glass with a very human hunger.

 

"And what message would that be?" Dean asked as he looked at Castiel incredulously.

 

Castiel shifted on his barstool and turned to Dean. "I need to be honest with you, Dean. I know what you thought when I... kissed Meg."

 

Rolling his eyes, Dean polished off his drink. "Yeah, well the last time I was around too much honesty, things went south. I'd prefer some good old-fashioned lying right about n—"

 

"I know how you feel about me, Dean."

 

Thoughts swirled through the hunter's brain as he thought of the way his stomach fluttered to match the flutter of angel's wings when Cas showed up unexpectedly. And how it dropped when he disappeared at the drop of a hat. How could he still feel the angel's touch on his skin long after he had gone? Why did he feel fuller, truer, somehow more real when Cas looked at him?

 

Dean snapped back to the present, looked at Castiel, and tried to lie.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Cas. I think we let you watch too much TV."

 

Disappointment welled up in the angel's deep blue eyes. Dean backpedalled, struggling to contain his secret truth.

 

"But I care about Lisa. And Ben. If I was any other guy, I could have a family with them."

 

"Yes, but you're not 'any other guy'," Cas retorted, punctuating his statement with air quotes. "You've died and been resurrected countless times. Your brother is an abomination. You are privy to the lives of angels, demons, and countless other things that most  other humans would run screaming from."

 

Castiel hesitated, then beckoned for Dean to pour them both a drink.

 

"So no, Dean, you're not any other guy. But you _have_ family. And you have me."

 

Dean swallowed hard at the thought of 'having' his angelic friend, then hurriedly pushed the image out of his mind. He glanced over at the poker table, saw his long-gone friends smiling and laughing as they played round after round of hold 'em.

 

"Cas, what do you want me to say to you, huh?"

 

"I don't need you to say anything to me. I know where your heart is. What I would like is for you to stop lying to yourself. It's a burden that you needn't bear."

 

Dean looked over to Castiel, confused. "That's about the last thing I'd expect to come out of an _angel's_ mouth. What about the whole thing with Leviticus, about—"

 

His head cocked slightly to the side, Castiel interrupted. "You are not of the tribe of Levi. Why would you be concerned with the charge to his people?"

 

"I—what?" Dean stammered.

 

"Nevermind. Suffice it to say that a great many things concerning the Word of God have been lost in translation over time. It baffles me as to how humans can be so passionate over a few mistranslated verses."

 

Slouching on his barstool, Dean hung his head and closed his eyes, bewildered.

 

* * *

 

When Dean opened his eyes, he saw that he and Castiel were standing in a lush garden.

 

"Oh, so now you can change the scenery, too?"

 

Dean looked to Castiel for answers.

 

"No, you did this yourself. I believe your exact thought was, 'I need some fresh air'."

 

Dean stared, a mixture of disbelief and understanding in his green eyes. "Are we gonna get to  that message that was so important to you?" For the moment, Castiel was silent on the issue.

 

As they walked though the garden, Dean and Castiel came across a park bench. Dean slumped down into the seat, but Castiel remained standing.

 

"A kiss can mean many things, Dean. There are kisses for friendship, for luck, for love. And I had only ever heard about such a thing until you started to show me those films on the television. Until then, the thought of two humans pressing their mouths together made no sense."

 

Shuddering a little, Dean quipped, "Well, when you put it that way, it just sounds nasty."

 

"Indeed. But Meg, demon though she is, put herself in grave danger to help us, and I thought that she would appreciate a gesture of good luck."

 

"Yeah, well, good luck kisses don't usually involve tongue."

 

Castiel kneeled in front of Dean, who was still hunched over on the bench. "I suppose not, but kisses of love just might..."

 

The angel reached up to cradle Deans face in his hands. As he closed his eyes and drew Dean closer—

 

"Wait a damn minute! I'm a man, Cas! I don't play for that team!"

 

"This is a vessel, Dean. As an angel, I have no sex, no gender. Such things are irrelevant in Heaven."

 

"They sure as hell aren't irrelevant down here on earth," Dean muttered.

 

Still kneeling before him, Castiel leveled with the hunter. "Dean, do you think every angel comes tripping down to earth whenever some human sends a half-hearted prayer? When I said we have a bond, I had hoped you would grasp my meaning. My message."

 

"Well, I didn't," said Dean. "So tell me, what's the message?"

 

* * *

 

A light rain had begun to fall in the garden, and Castiel glanced down at his knees, which were fast becoming soaked from the puddle forming around them. He moved to the bench and turned to his friend.

 

"Dean, I care very deeply about you and your brother. I care about all the people that you love, and I would risk anything to protect them. I do that because... I love you, Dean."

 

Castiel's hand was resting lightly on Dean's arm, and the angel began to pull away. Dean grabbed Castiels' wrist, forced the angel to face him.

 

"You wanted the truth so bad, Cas? You can have it," said the hunter, a touch of anger in his voice. "I love you just as much. It makes no damn sense to me, but I love you. I loved you from the first time I saw you, from the first words you spoke to me."

 

Castiel's head cocked to the side once again. "Then... why do you sound so angry?"

 

"I'm only angry at myself, Cas." He let Castiel's wrist go, and turned away from the angel. Dean felt warmth surround him, felt the light grasp of hands on his shoulders. He opened his eyes to find Castiel standing before him, angel wings of pure golden light surrounding them both. Dean looped his arms around Castiel's slim waist and pulled him close.

 

Not another word was spoken as their lips touched, gently at first, then rougher as Castiel climbed into Dean's lap. A soft moan escaped from Dean's lips as Cas raked his fingers through Dean's hair...

 

* * *

 

All dreams must come to an end, and this one was no exception. Dean woke to find Sam still sleeping soundly over in his bed. At the foot of his own bed, Dean saw Castiel sitting, as if waiting for something.

 

Dean sat up in bed, and Castiel turned to face him, the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

 

"So, Cas. Did you learn all that from the pizza man, too?"

 


End file.
